


may i love you?

by lucylikestowrite



Series: mr & mrs smith verse [2]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Explicit Consent, F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, bc it's zero plot it's just sin it is sin from like the very first line, but i don't think you need to have read the main fic, it's strictly an epilogue to the epilogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-10 20:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15299190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucylikestowrite/pseuds/lucylikestowrite
Summary: "Okay, baby, okay.”A smile breaks on Ava’s face as she looks up at Sara, hovering above her.Sara presses down slightly, kisses her again, then pulls back half an inch. “What do you want, Ava?”or:what happens immediately after the swear to god epilogue





	may i love you?

**Author's Note:**

> I am not kidding when I say without plot. If you read the main fic and are not comfortable with full out porn, you're not missing anything if you don't read this, because there's no plot development, just sex. it's dirty, okay. 100% the dirtiest thing I've posted. Alternatively, if you haven't read the main fic, and you just want some smut, you don't really need to have read the main fic. It's strictly part of a mr and mrs smith au but that's basically never mentioned so you readers that just want sex are covered as well lmao. all you need 2 know is that they're married and they haven't had sex for...... uhhh.... a year. it's a long story (50k words long)
> 
> fic title is from may i which was one of the anon's songs
> 
> And with that clarified, on with the sin lmao

“Okay, baby, okay.”

A smile breaks on Ava’s face as she looks up at Sara, hovering above her. She sits up, lets Sara pull off her shirt, then lies back down, just watching Sara, waiting.

Sara presses down to meet her, kisses her again, then pulls back half an inch. “What do you want, Ava?”

Before, they'd mostly just trusted each other to figure out what the other wanted, only asking on rare occasions. But now… now things are different, and it's not necessarily a bad thing. Just different, and so Sara’s asking. Maybe it won't be like that forever, but it is right now.

Ava closes her eyes, trying to think, but Sara's hands are on her skin, careful movements pulling her out of her thoughts, and she can't concentrate.

Can't focus on what she wants with the feeling of Sara’s fingertips on her, lingering on naked skin she hasn't touched like _this_ in a year. Of course, it isn't like they hadn't touched at all, but the intention had been different. Now, the intention behind the way Sara's fingers skate over her skin is unmistakable.

Undeniable.

Ava’s eyes open. She takes a breath. “You're distracting me,” she admonishes. “I can't think.”

Sara smirks. “I'm distracting you? How?”

But she's moving her hands lower, over the curve of Ava’s breasts, like she knows exactly how she's doing it. Her expression is hungry.

“Your hands. I missed— I missed you touching me like this. But I can't think. About anything— anything except—” Sara presses down, and Ava stops being able to talk.

Everywhere is too sensitive. Too _needy_ , but she doesn't want to admit that.

“You had all the time in the world to think about how you wanted this, baby,” Sara teases, her hands still moving, stroking. Ava knows that, but she hadn't planned this. She'd just opened her eyes that evening and realised she was ready, so there hadn't been time for thinking.

“I know— I know but I… didn't…” she trails off.

“Wait, so you really don't know what you want?” Sara asks, and her expression gets more serious, the jest falling away. Her hands get softer, less purposeful and more soothing.

Ava shakes her head, looking up at Sara, wide eyed.

“Okay.” Sara pauses, pursing her lips, considering. “Okay. Let me help you.”

“Yeah?” Ava asks, relieved. She hadn't needed to worry. Sara always knew what to do.

“Yeah, I'm gonna try to help you,” Sara says, her voice soft. “I'm gonna get you out of your head. But you gotta tell me if it’s not working. We’ll try something else. Or stop.”

Before, if Ava was this indecisive, Sara would've just dived in, and Ava would've let her, would've trusted Sara to know what she might want. Sara won't do that anymore. Now, it's know what Ava wants or nothing. And that's okay. It makes Ava feel safe. Makes the thought of letting go, of giving up control easier.

Sara shifts, and her leg is moving, her knee getting higher, teasing Ava’s thighs open, and then it's pressed right up against Ava’s cunt, against the fabric of her underwear, and she has to stifle a moan, her mouth falling open involuntarily.

But it's exactly what she needs. She closes her eyes, the sudden sensation letting her concentrate on the desire building, letting her figure out what she wants, instead of being up in her head about everything else.

Before she can say anything, though, Sara speaks again. “Ava? Is this okay?”

The pressure decreases slightly, and this time, Ava can't stop the noise that escapes.

“Yes. Yes. Yes. God. Put it back. It's helping.”

Sara returns her knee, maybe even pressing slightly firmer than before, rocking, and Ava’s eyes roll back a little. It feels so good, and it's all she needs to work out that this is what she wants, but just… more. This pressure but better. There are other things she wants, things her mind is going to now that it's consumed by desire, letting her think about all the things Sara could be doing to her, but that works, for a start.

“Okay. I figured it out. I want your fingers on me,” Ava says, her voice low, thick with desire, with need.

Sara’s fingers instead of her knee, so much softer and finer and more dexterous and more talented. That's what Ava needs. Sara nods. “Okay. Just on? Not in?”

“In later,” Ava says. Sara rocks again, slowly, lazily, drawing a gasp out of Ava’s lips.

Sara nods again, her face serious, as if compiling a mental list. She’s frowning slightly in concentration, obviously wanting to make sure she's checking all the boxes, going through everything Ava could want. “Just my fingers?” she asks.

She knows her, knows what Ava's thinking, and Ava nods—and then shakes her head. “And your mouth. But later. When you're—fuck—” she exclaims, as Sara nudges harder and more purposefully against her, smirking, “—in me. I want that. But not the first round. I need to go slow at first. And I want— I want to see your face the first time.”

That's what she wants most of all. To see Sara. That's what she's always wanted. To see her, to know that she's loved and safe and that Sara is with her. The smirk disappears, and a smile breaks on Sara’s face at those words. It's so beautiful, and Ava raises a hand up, is tracing Sara’s lips with a finger before she can stop herself.

“I love your smile,” Ava murmurs.

Sara's eyes close briefly, reopen, and then she speaks, softly Ava’s finger still on near bottom lip. “Fuck. I love your fingers, baby.” She's eyeing them where they rest so close to her mouth. She swallows, her eyes darkening. “Can I—”

“Yes,” Ava says, abruptly, not needing to hear the rest of the question, already feeling Sara’s mouth around them, wanting that.

Sara pulls Ava's hand away, just for a second. “Ava. You keep answering my questions before I have a chance to ask them. I need—- I need to _know_ we’re on the same page. Otherwise I can't do this. I _won't_ do this.” Her voice is firm.

“I knew what you were going to ask. I know you, Sara.” Ava pauses. “I know you need me to be okay with this, but I'll _tell_ you if I'm not. I promise.” Sara sighs, reluctant, and she looks like she's going to say something, so Ava just moves her hand back to Sara’s mouth, making the decisions for her. “I’ll tell you if anything isn't okay,” Ava reassures her.

Sara doesn't say anything, just nods, a tiny nod, and takes the hand, her fingers stroking over Ava’s, over the knuckles and the palm and the callouses there, callouses Ava had always used to say were from the gym, but that Sara knows better, now. Sara's fingers are feather light on Ava’s, treating her as if she's fragile, and maybe she is.

“Love your fingers so much, Ava. So perfect. The best fingers.” Sara presses kisses to Ava’s fingertips, and when she's done each one, she moves to the knuckles, kissing each joint.

Ava swallows. “You know, I’m going to be out of practice. I'm not going to be as— as good as before, babe. If you'd just— if you'd let me touch you before— before tonight, I could've kept it up. But I haven't. I'm not going to be what you want.”

Sara stops, abruptly, on the second knuckle on Ava’s ring finger. She looks up, at Ava, her eyes wide. “What?”

Ava stares back, confused. “I don't— I mean— You said you loved my fingers. But I'm not— not going to be like how you _remember,_ Sara,” she says, almost pleading. “The last time we had sex I hadn't had... a year’s break. I won't be as good as that. It won't be as good for you.”

Sara's face is pained. “No, that's not what I meant. I love your fingers always. Any time. Not just when they're in me. They're perfect because they're yours. They don't have to be doing anything for me to love them.” She pauses. “But, Ava, baby, you're _always_ what I want. God. How can you even—” She cuts herself off, shaking her head, then drags her mouth up the finger, lips parting slightly, until Ava can feel the slightest hint of tongue. And then Sara winks, her mouth falling open farther. “You're always what I want. No matter what your fingers are doing.” She pauses again, a smile on her face that makes heat curl, low and desperate, in Ava stomach. “But just so you know, baby, they're gonna feel _great_ in my mouth.”

“Yeah?”

Sara nods.

So Ava complies, pressing a finger past Sara’s lips. Sara's tongue is soft and hard at the same time. Her mouth is warm.

“You like that?” Sara whispers, only slightly garbled.

“Yeah.” They'd done this before, but not in a long while, and it feels better than Ava had remembered it could. The intimacy feels right. The balance of trust. Ava not to push too far, Sara not to bite down too hard.

Like a standoff.

“You can put another one in. Or two, if you want.”

Ava does, and the feeling only gets better, Sara's tongue swirling. It's too much, but also not enough.

“I want to actually be in you,” Ava murmurs, her eyes on Sara’s mouth, her throat dry at the sight. “Feel you again. I know you missed that. I want to do that, even if I'm not gonna be great.”

Sara carefully pulls back, Ava's fingers suddenly out in the cold air again. She kisses the fingertips once more, then speaks. “Not until after. I'm taking care of you first.” She leans down, kisses her. “But when we _do_ get there, you're going to be amazing. You're going to make me feel so good. Promise.”

Her hands, which had been roaming around Ava's chest, now start to move lower, spreading sparks across Ava’s skin, trailing over her stomach and the muscles there. She reaches Ava’s underwear, and then stops.

Ava knows why.

That's where they got to last time.

Last time, a year ago.

“Are you _sure_?” Sara asks. “We can still stop now. I'm not going to be mad. I'm never going to be mad.”

“No. No. I want this.”

Sara had been rocking against her cunt the whole time, building her up, still in control even with Ava's fingers in her mouth, and when Sara finally pulls her knee away, looks at the crotch, Ava knows it's completely ruined. She can _feel_ that it's ruined, and she just needs something to relieve the desire low in her stomach.

“Yeah, I guess you do, baby,” Sara says, a little cocky, but Ava can take it.

The underwear is gone a second later.

Ava can't help the, “Oh god, please,” that escapes from her lips, a whisper, a desperate whisper as what she needs creeps closer.

“Ava?” Sara pauses again, waiting. “I'm going to— I’ll ask one more time, and then I'm going to do exactly what you said you wanted. Nothing more. If you don't want me to keep asking, I won't. But I'm trusting you to tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

Ava nods. She's not going to want that, but that doesn't matter. Sara just has to know she understands, has to know they're on the same page.

“Are you sure you want this, Ava?”

“Yes.” Ava pauses, then decides that Sara deserves more, deserves more if she's compromising on wanting to ask at every juncture. “I want your fingers on me, and then I want your mouth on me and your fingers in me, and I want to come. I want you to make me come. More than once.” Her voice is low. Clear. Explicit. There's no room for doubt. No room for hesitation.

Sara nods, her eyes darkening. Ava stares back. And then Sara’s fingertip is on Ava, lightly caressing, making the tiniest of movements.

“Fuck,” Ava gasps out, because, it's been a _year_ since Sara touched her like this, and it feels so good. It feels better than good. It feels perfect. It feels like too much, not enough, like everything, and thirty seconds in, Ava seizes up, clenching, gasping.

Sara looks at her in shock. “Wait. Are you—”

Ava nods. “I think so—” A wave builds inside of her, and she re-evaluates. “Yeah— I am. _Fuck_. But I want after… stay like this— your fingers for another one...” she says, panting, holding back, holding back.

Holding back until Sara says, “It's okay, Ava. You can let go, baby.”

“Yeah?” Her eyes are screwed closed, her breathing heavy. She feels like she's about to fall apart.

“Yeah.”

Ava comes, hard, a whimper escaping from her mouth. It washes over her. She feels light, like she's floating. There are stars in her eyes and her body is thrumming, finally getting release feeling like the best thing in the world. Her thighs are shaking, and her hands are clutching at air.

Her toes curl into their bedsheets.

She'd missed Sara making her feel like this, so much, so so much and she just wants _more_.

But, once the high dies down, she remembers to be embarrassed. She was too quick, too eager, too out of control. Not like her at all. Not like the old her. More proof that she has changed, that things are different now.

“I’m s—” she starts, but Sara shushes her.

“No. That was amazing, Ava. You're so beautiful. So perfect. You want me so much. I can't believe how much you want me.” Her voice is full of awe, of love. “I didn't think you'd ever want me like that again.”

Still disbelieving, because Sara still doesn't quite get how much Ava loves her, wants her, _needs_ her.

Ava closes her eyes, breathes, “I’ll always want you,” unable to say much more than that, to do anything except get Sara touching her again. She spreads her legs from where they had clamped closed, and hopes Sara understood her plea from half a second before she came: that she wants more of this, before Sara’s mouth, that she still needs to build up to that. That she's too hot for this, too desperate for Sara, and if Sara puts her mouth on her now, she's not going to last half a second.

And she needs to last longer than that. Needs to be able to fully appreciate Sara’s perfect, perfect mouth, so it can't be yet. Ava opens her eyes, and Sara nods, understands, her fingers moving back to lightly graze Ava's clit.

She keeps her gaze on Ava as her movements resume, and Ava nevers breaks eye contact, even when it feels like too much. She said she wanted to see Sara, and she does, so she keeps her eyes open, fixed. Sara is looking at her like never before. There's something new in her eyes, a new facet of love that has been unlocked. A new dimension, now that they know everything.

Love, but also lust, because Ava knows her face is contorting, her mouth open, her cheeks flushed. Knows what she must look like for Sara. She knows this because the desire on Sara’s face, the hunger, is unmistakable. Her eyes roam incessantly over Ava's face, drinking it in, her hand always moving.

“You're so beautiful,” Sara says, in awe. “I'm so lucky.”

Ava's voice, when she tries to respond, is little more than a whimper, alternating between Sara's name and broken exclamations.

At some point, she manages to get out an audible, “Please,” her body arching off the bed as Sara suddenly gets more purposeful, upping the pace, setting an unpredictable rhythm, and it's not long before Ava feels the unbearable pressure building again, desperate for release. Sara flicks her clit, playing with it. It’s almost too sensitive, and that's what forces her over the edge again, the need to finish before it's too much.

Ava hits the ground and shatters, moaning, her legs slamming shut, everything too sensitive but also still craving friction, craving the friction that leaves once Sara moves her hand away. The feeling is overwhelming.

“Give me five minutes before you go again,” Ava says, shakily. Her body feels tight, wound up.

“Okay,” Sara says, always amenable. “You know, you don't have to go again, if it's too much.”

“I'm not even _close_ to being done,” Ava managed to get out.

Sara smiles. “Okay,” she says again. “You want me to touch you at all while we wait? Or I can leave you be, if it's too much.”

“ _No_ ,” Ava says, more urgent than she had meant. “I need you to stay with. Please.”

“Okay. It's okay. Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere.” Sara leans back, examining Ava, and, all the while, her hands run over the skin on Ava’s thighs, keeping her promise not to break contact. Then she frowns. “You know, you're looking tense, baby. If you want my mouth, you gotta be relaxed. Can’t have that with all that tension. You want help with that?”

“Yeah,” Ava sighs. “My shoulders. My back. Can you—”

“Sure. Whatever you want.” Sara pauses. “But why are you tense?” She looks concerned, her brow still furrowed.

Ava sighs again. “I'm still worried about not being what you remember,” she finally admits.

Sara doesn't immediately respond to that, just says, “Roll over.”

Ava does. Sara straddles her, lace underwear slip-sliding against the skin on the small of Ava's back, her hands finding her shoulder muscles, easing away the tightness there. It feels good, so good, like she's physically pulling away Ava’s worries, working them away the same way she works away the knots in Ava’s back, physical manifestations of her anxiety.

Sara leans down, until her face is close to where Ava’s is, on its side on the pillow, her eyes half closed. Sara's front presses against Ava's back, the thin fabric of her shirt the only thing between Ava’s skin and Sara’s breasts, and Ava shivers. Sara's hair falls on Ava’s neck, her back, her face. A million strands lighting up her nerve endings. Ava's sure she can feel every single one.

“You're not going to be what I remember. You're going to be better.” Sara kisses her jawline, the nape of her neck, the muscles she's still working on. Her mouth is soft, leaving trails of goosebumps as she moves it across Ava’s skin. “You're already being amazing. You've finished twice, baby.”

Ava makes a sound. That's not the same. Giving and receiving aren't the same. Sara should know that, should know that it doesn't help to say that. Ava spirals a little, her head spinning. She's going to be terrible, like she was her very first time. It's going to be that all over again, like she's eighteen again. Another anxious sound escapes, her eyes fully closing. “That's not the same, Sara.”

“You're amazing,” Sara assures. “You're going to be amazing. You're going to make me feel _so good_. Whatever you do, it's going to be perfect for me. You hear me?”

She keeps repeating that, all the while digging into Ava's muscles, and, eventually, Ava gives up trying to fight back.

Maybe it will be okay. Maybe she can believe Sara. Maybe she’ll be able to make Sara feel good. Maybe. She tries to think, tries remember what Sara likes, to prepare, but it becomes hopeless when, a couple of minutes later, the desire is building again, and suddenly all she can do is be selfish, concentrate on her own pleasure.

She's thinking about what Sara had agreed to do, and it almost kills her just imagining it.

Ava shifts, needing something more than Sara's hands on her back, because all of a sudden, with those fantasties in her head, every second without Sara relieving the pressure in her cunt is excruciating. The heat is worse than before, building up in anticipation of what is to come. She squirms slightly, pressing her legs together, her hips bucking up a little under Sara's weight.

Sara notices. “You ready? You want more?”

Ava nods.

“Okay. Roll back over.”

Once Ava is back on her back, laid out in front of her, Sara looks at her, her eyes still hungry. Her hands push Ava’s thighs open again, and it's Sara’s turn to gasp. “Fuck. You're even wetter than before, baby.”

Ava shivers. She'd felt that, had known that even before Sara commented on it. “I know. You know I love your mouth. I wanted it, wanted it first, but I had to build up to it, otherwise it would've been over too quickly.”

“I love how logical you are,” Sara says, and then she’s pressing down without warning, without giving Ava time to prepare, and licks the wetness from Ava’s thighs, from everywhere that isn't Ava's cunt.

“Please, Sara.” She's given up trying not to beg.

Sara doesn't respond. She's on a mission, slowly getting closer, closer, closer. Teasing the soft skin on Ava's inner thighs, biting down slightly. Her mouth trailing a wet line closer.

And then all of a sudden she licks all the way up Ava’s slit, ending by closing her mouth on her clit, sucking down hard, and Ava almost screams, almost faints, almost dies.

But Sara doesn't stop, doesn't pause, doesn't rest for a second. Doesn't let Ava rest. She leaves Ava’s clit, and instead teases at her entrance, warming it up, working it open, pushing her tongue inside just slightly, then removing it, then working in slightly further.

“Oh, _God,”_ Ava says again, this time not a whisper. This time it's loud, unrestrained.

She clenches, desperate for something inside her, but she's not going to beg, at least not for that, because she knows Sara will get there. She asked for it, and she's going to get it. Sara had promised, and she won't break that. Ava just has to wait, be patient, no matter how impossible it may seem.

Sara keeps licking, sucking, kissing, relentless.

And then she spreads Ava’s legs even wider, pressing pointedly down with her hands, and one of the hands leaves Ava's inner thigh, works closer, fingers wandering over the juncture of her legs. Sara moves her mouth upwards, leaves her entrance empty, going back to lavishing her attention on Ava’s clit.

Ava knows it's coming, and can't help but make a sound, a desperate sound. The fingers get closer, teasing over her vulva, Sara making lines with her fingers as she keeps working on Ava’s clit.

And then they're circling the entrance, so close and yet so so far, and she clenches, moans again, and Sara obviously decides to give in. Ava feels just a fingertip first, dipping in slightly, feeling out the entrance that has already been warmed up.

She tries to resist everything telling her to just thrust, to take it instead of waiting to be given, and she almost succeeds, but then a second fingertip joins the first, still checking. The thought of two inside her right that second, fully inside in one thrust, is suddenly too much. It consumes her, her mind thinking of nothing but Sara’s fingers, and she jerks her hips with enough force that they fall inside, easily, so easily. Too easily.

She thinks she hears (feels) Sara tut against her, but she can't be sure—and she doesn't care. She's lost in desire, wanting to play the game but struggling so hard to.

“Another—” she pants. “Another— Don't stop.”

Sara's mouth is still on her clit, working hard, and she pulls her fingers out, adds another—and pushes them inside before Ava can cheat.

Three feels a million times better than two. So good that she just wants to keep them there. Sara pulls back to thrust again, and Ava's body clenches involuntarily, trying to keep the fingers inside.

It fails, but Sara hums against her clit, obviously having felt that around her fingers. She lets them linger again against Ava's entrance, presses them slightly in, triggering a reflex that pulls them back in, slowly, so agonisingly slowly, until Ava is finally full again.

Or, almost full.

“One more,” she gasps out, thrashing as Sara starts thrusting, slow and careful. Tender. That's the word for it. She's fucking Ava, but it's _tender_.

And then Sara stops on her clit, obviously registering what Ava is asking, and Ava almost yelps. But it's not surprising that Sara is confused. Ava's never been one for this much, this many fingers, but today (and maybe just today) she is.

“One more. I can take it. Promise.”

She's too out of breath, too far gone to say what she wants to, that she knows it's been a long time, that she never usually wanted this, but that she also _knows_ she can take this, _needs_ to take this, and she just has to hope Sara understands.

She does.

Her fingers leave Ava again, and then when they press back, her pinky has joined.

Sara resumes her licking, even more urgent than before. The fingers leave her entrance, are being dragged through her wetness, the slick that is everywhere, and then they're back, poised, ready. The hand of Sara’s that isn't hovering at Ava’s entrance finds one of Ava’s, squeezing down tight. It's a question without words, without Sara having to break away from her cunt.

Ava squeezes back. “Yeah,” she says, breathless. “Yeah.”

The fingers enter her. Slowly. So. Slowly.

There's a slight stretch, but Ava's taking it. She's taking it, and she can't breathe, can't do anything except feel.

Sara hums on Ava's clit, pulls the hand out, and thrusts back in so much quicker, without warning. Ava bucks, a startled noise escaping. “Keep going,” she says, quickly, reassuring Sara that that was a good noise, that she'll die if Sara stops even for a second. “Like that.”

Sara sets a rhythm, a real one this time, and Ava is glad, glad she can know what's coming. This time, with this sensation, she needs predictability.

The desire in her stomach throbs harder, more urgent and stronger with every thrust, every lick of Sara's tongue. She's so full, and Sara's mouth is so perfect, and the third orgasm is coming, building up slowly, so slowly, weaving its way through her body, leaving her limp, unable to do anything except wait, unable to even speak, the pleasure rushing through her so intensely.

She's boneless, relaxed, like Sara had wanted, and Sara feels it, speeds up, knowing Ava is close. She gets rougher, pressing down harder with her fingers, gripping Ava's hand tighter.

And then she curls her fingers inside, all of them, pressing against the exact right spot the spot she'd been avoiding until now, sucking down hard on Ava's clit at the same time—and Ava peaks, crests, falls.

Her body shakes, uncontrollable, and she thinks she maybe blacks out for a second, and she's never felt this good in her _life_ , and Sara has pulled her mouth away, is looking at her with so much love, and her walls clenching around the fingers still inside her trigger another, smaller one, and that time, she _definitely_ blacks out, the last thing she remembers being Sara's tongue on her thighs, cleaning her up.

 

When she comes to, Sara is smiling.

“Fingers out?” she asks, and Ava realises they're still all in her, her walls still fluttering slightly around them. She briefly imagines Sara removing them, and winces at the thought. That's definitely not an option, not yet.

Ava shakes her head. “No. Too sensitive. And they still feel so good.”

Sara wiggles them, and Ava gasps, closing her eyes.

“You're so beautiful, Aves.” She wipes hair, stuck to Ava’s skin with sweat, off her face, drops kisses on her forehead, her nose, her eyelids. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Ava mumbles. “So much.”

She feels half asleep. She's drained, exhausted. She tries to open her eyes, and fails.

Sara's voice is still close when she speaks again. “Do you want a nap, baby? Before you do me? Or just a nap. No strings attached. You don't have to… reciprocate after, if you don't want to.”

“No. I want to. And want to do it _now_ ,” Ava says, but her voice is losing conviction as sleep tries to take her.

“Okay. That's fine, baby, but you can sleep for a bit first. It's okay if you want to. You did so well.”

Ava tries to say no. She so wants to make Sara feel good _right now_ , but she's already drifting away. “Yeah. I guess. Yeah. Nap.”

“I'm gonna take my fingers out now,” Sara says, hardly more than a whisper, and Ava had almost forgotten they were still there, had gotten used to the sensation.

“Okay,” Ava says, and then they're gone, that strange almost euphoric feeling passing through her at the last stretch of her entrance. The feeling is fleeting, though, and sleep finds her seconds later.

 

When she wakes up, Sara is curled up beside her, her eyes closed. Ava moves, and Sara's eyes open.

Ava frowns. “Did I wake you?”

“No. I wasn't asleep. Just waiting.”

“You didn't have to stay here.”

Sara laughs. “Of course I was going to stay here.” Her voice is light, and it's partly a loving expression on her face, but there's something else in her eyes, in the way she's looking at Ava.

It's hungry, that's what it is. She wants this, so badly. Ava's going to give it to her.

She pulls the sleep from her mind, blinking slowly, then switches something on inside her, says, “You were just desperate, huh? Couldn't risk waiting a moment longer than you had to?” Her voice is a little harsher than it is usually, a little more commanding. Sara had always liked that.

She obviously _still_ likes that, because eyes darken, as if on cue. “It's like that, is it?”

Ava shifts, moves, so finally it's Sara under _her_. “If you want it to be,” she says, briefly going back to her normal voice, just checking.

Sara purses her lips together. “Sure, _Agent_ ,” she says, and that does it.

“Take off your shirt,” Ava says, and Sara does, scrabbling at the fabric, pulling it away from her until there's finally nothing between their chests.

Ava nods, satisfied, and kisses Sara, long and slow and passionate, until Sara's gasping, and Ava still doesn't stop, just lets up for half a second so they can breathe, then presses her body down tighter, slotting her hips against Sara’s, rejoicing when Sara bucks, ruts, tries to get some friction.

Ava pulls away. “Not yet. Say it, first.”

“What?” Sara's eyes are wild, searching.

Ava tuts. “Say it.”

“I don't know what— I love you? I want you? I need you?” Sara throws them out, at the same time pawing at her underwear, trying to pull it away. Ava stops her.

Her fingers loop under the panties, and she pauses, giving in. “Say that you're desperate, Sara.”

Sara kisses her, sloppily, then speaks against Ava's mouth. “You're so fucking sexy. This side of you. God.” Ava shakes her head. Sara rolls her eyes in response. “I was getting there, baby. I'm desperate. Is that enough?”

Ava considers, looking at Sara. “No.” She wants more, wants Sara pleading. Ava had begged. Sara can too.

Sara's expressions shifts even further into desire. “I'm _desperate,_ Ava. Just for you.”

“Better,” Ava says, pulling the panties down Sara's legs. “One more time.”

She places her fingers on Sara’s inner thigh. Sara opens her mouth, and before she can speak, Ava stops her, leaves the game one last time, just for a second. “Inside?” she asks.

Sara nods, then closes her eyes, her next words coming out as a drawl. “I'm so _desperate_ for your fingers inside my cunt, Ava.”

Ava nods, then pulls her fingers away. Sara looks crestfallen, but the expression disappears when Ava presses her fingers to Sara's lips again. Sara opens her mouth, eager, her tongue working, this time with a purpose. When Ava pulls her fingers away, Sara smiles, a lazy, blissed out smile, and holds her breath as Ava brings them low enough.

She pushes one inside, just one, and she'd missed how perfect Sara feels. Warm and velvety soft and wet. A million times better than her mouth. Silken and familiar.

And then, suddenly, she's not worried about being out of practice, because everything is coming back to her. The way Sara likes it and how her body works and how Ava should go about everything. It's all been there, waiting to be unlocked, waiting, in the background, until the knowledge wasn't painful anymore.

She starts fucking her like that, with just one, and Sara's so sensitive that she's bucking up from just that.

Ava looks at Sara's face, drags her gaze away from her entrance, from where her finger disappears inside of Sara. “How many times?”

“Your choice,” Sara says. “You're in charge.”

“No,” Ava says, almost growling it. “You tell me, or nothing. It works both ways, babe.”

She curls her finger, and Sara winces. But she's obviously seeing something on Ava’s face, worry beneath the bravado, because her voice softens. “Okay. Okay. Just once. But make it big. I wanna— work for it.”

Ava nods, smiles. “That's all you had to say, Sara,” she says, then speeds up, pushing in and out quickly, quickly, and then, when, a couple of minute later, she feels the walls start to flex, she slows down. Sara's body, which had been rising off the bed, slumps down.

“Exactly like that,” Sara breathes, the blissful smile still on her face. “Build to it, baby. Go slow. I told you you'd be great.”

Ava was about to add another finger, but, instead, spurred on by Sara's plea to go slowly, she brings her slowly back up again with just one—and then back down again. Sara's face is sweaty from holding back. “No-one else could get me that close with one, Aves. You're amazing.”

But it's obvious Sara needs two, now, if she's going to get anywhere. Just like they had with Ava, two go in easily, Sara all worked up, open, ready for Ava.

Ava spends longer, goes slower, kisses Sara, kisses away the whimpers. “I love you,” Ava whispers. “You look so pretty. You feel so good. You're so perfect around my fingers.”

“Stop being so— sweet and— dirty at the same time,” Sara gasps out.

“Never,” Ava says, twisting her fingers, bringing Sara to the brink one more time. Her body is putty under Ava’s hands. She's shaking, almost vibrating with anticipation as she falls back down from the almost peak.

Sara's face contorts when Ava pulls her fingers out, adding one more. “This times the time, Sara. You're gonna come for me, okay?”

Sara nods. “Whatever you say, baby.”

Ava pushes in slowly, a fraction of an inch at a time, watching her fingers go, watching Sara convulse and fist her hands in the sheets, biting on her tongue to stop herself from screaming.

Once they're in, she leaves them there for a second, not starting to thrust, but making Sara wait, wait for the beginning of the end. When she starts moving her hand, she feels Sara tightening almost immediately, knowing then that even if she'd wanted to try to bring Sara back down once more, she couldn't. Sara's on a rollercoaster that only goes up.

Sara's eyes are closed, her mouth is open, and she's so close, her chest rising and falling at a frantic pace, the sound of her breathing loud. Ava speeds up, gets harder, aims her fingers more carefully, and then, when Sara looks like she's about to fall, she leans down and closes her mouth around Sara’s clit.

She comes, a shout escaping from her mouth, a shout that becomes a moan as Ava's mouth stays where it is, as her fingers keep twisting, dragging the aftershocks out longer and longer.

Dragging them out until there's nothing left. Ava moves to pull away, but then Sara's hand is on her head, trying to keep her there.

“I know I said one... but I'm so close to another, baby,” Sara manages to say, her throat sounding raw. “Please.”

Like Sara would really ever have to say please. Ava would do anything she asked.

She pulls up just a couple of inches. Sara’s fingers lace through her hair, but she doesn't stop Ava from moving away, because Sara wouldn't do that, not anymore. Wouldn't keep Ava properly down, even in jest. Ava looks at Sara, smiles, finally lets the mask and the game fall away, and it's just them, no pretenses, no aggression. “Yeah, of course, of course, Sara.”

Sara smiles back.

She doesn't tease this time, just slowly, gently works Sara back up—not too hard, but not so soft that it's frustrating. Just licks her way in, Sara's cunt slick and easy and open for her.

There's nothing quite like that, quite like visual confirmation, _tactile_ confirmation of how much Sara wants this.

Ava keeps moving her tongue, not neglecting a single bit of her, always returning to her clit, but staying soft and sweet, not pushing her too far, not working her clit too much, knowing it has to be sensitive.

Sara shakes under her, sounds escaping, wonderful sounds that Ava wants more of.

Her arm is slung over her face, her hips bucking, and then a couple of minutes in, without warning, without Ava even needing to switch anything up, to go faster or harder, Sara suddenly tenses.

“I’m—” she gasps out, and then she's coming a second later, hard and messy against Ava's mouth. “Fuck,” she breathes, eventually, when she's stopped shaking, when her mouth is no longer slack. “Holy fuck, Ava. I told you you'd be good.”

“Yeah?”

“You were so good. Come here,” Sara says, and Ava goes to wipe her face, but Sara stops her. “No. Come here, baby.”

Ava crawls up Sara's body, slowly, until it's too much and Sara reaches out, pulls her close, not hesitating even slightly before kissing her, open mouthed and intense, in control despite still being under Ava. Always in control. She'd been in control the whole time, really.

She licks into Ava's mouth, tasting herself, her hands roaming over Ava’s skin again.

When she pulls away, her hands move back up to Ava’s face, keeping Ava staring right at her. Her expression turns serious. “Was that what you wanted, baby? When you said you wanted me? Was all this okay?” Sara asks.

“More than okay.”

“You're going to be feeling tonight for a while,” Sara says, slightly apologetic. “Four was—”

“Amazing,” Ava says. “I needed it. Not every time. Maybe not even ever. But that time. I needed it tonight.”

Ava rolls off Sara, twisting their bodies so they're back where they started: side by side, staring at each other. Sara's finger finds the strip of skin on Ava’s hip that's always been extra sensitive, gently stroking over it, bringing shivers up where she touches it.

“You wanna shower?” Ava asks. She's sweaty and sticky and Sara is too.

Sara shakes her head. “Don't wanna leave you.” She wraps her arms around Ava, pulling her closer. “Want to stay right here with you,” she murmurs.

Ava laughs, kissing her lightly. “We’re not doing the space thing anymore, remember? I'm asking if you want to shower _with_ me, babe.”

“Oh,” Sara says, obviously realising the mistaken assumption she'd made, the assumption she'd ingrained into herself these past six months. A smile dawns on her face. “Then yes.”

Ava sits up, pulls her up, and out of bed, leading her by the hand to the bathroom, stopping a couple of times in the five steps it takes, to lean down, kiss her, tangle her hands in Sara’s hair.

A minute later, they're in the shower. Sara hovers in the corner while Ava turns the water on, obviously still slightly cautious despite the fact that Ava had just fallen apart four times under her ministrations, only a little while ago, despite the fact that Ava had invited her in there.

“Come here,” Ava says, echoing Sara’s words from minutes ago. “We got this. We made it.”

She pulls Sara into a hug. Sara looks up at her. “You know I would've been okay if you'd never felt ready for that, right?” Sara pauses, as if trying to find the right words. “This was amazing, and I want to keep doing it, I want us to be back there, but that doesn't… that doesn't mean I loved you any less before, when you couldn't.” Her voice almost breaks. She's so earnest.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Okay,” Sara says, pressing up, kissing Ava.

The water falls, and they're finally clean.

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me my sins. I haven't posted E since like? February. So this was. A ride. Please don't @ me if you think it's worse than the main fic/my other stuff because. It is.
> 
> JUST DON'T BE WEIRD
> 
> also yes i stole that last line from taylor because that's who i am.
> 
> i would usually link my twitter here but.... ya girl has a jes follow she's not jeopardizing. this fic gets talked about on twitter on PAIN OF DEATH


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